


High Voltage

by Misanagi



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: BAMF Steve Harrington, Derogatory Language, Explicit Language, Fights, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Billy Hargrove, demodogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 06:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: Inside the cage, two men were pounding each other with their fists. There was blood on the floor, both new and old, and the smell of sweat permeated the room.“Not your usual scene, uh Princess?”(Or Billy and Steve go to an underground cage fight).





	High Voltage

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Season 2. 
> 
> Warnings for homophobic and misogynistic language.
> 
> My first try at a Stranger Things fic. 
> 
> Unbetaed.

Billy Hargrove needed a ride. 

Actually, what he needed was cash because he would have much rather drive himself than spend forty minutes on the passenger seat of whatever sucker he got to take him. But he didn’t have the gas money to make it all the way to Clarksville, so he was fucked.

Nicole or any of the other bitches lusting after him would be ideal for the drive but chicks were annoyingly clingy and loud and sometimes cried when he got into fights; and even though the sex was good he was in no mood for a whining hoe. 

Tommy H. would take him. Tommy H. would probably carry him all the way there and suck his balls if Billy asked, but Tommy H. was a fucking pussy. Billy could hardly stand him and the idea of being trapped in a car with him for any length of time made him want to hit Tommy H’s horrible freckled face. Hitting something was the whole point but that would be just way too easy. 

The other guys in the team were just as bad: annoying, small towns bitches, who acted tough but weren’t worth shit. Well, most of them. 

Since that weird night with the creepy house, the plate and the bat, him and Harrington had kept their distance. They exchanged words when they needed to during basketball practice but that was about it. 

Harrington had never said who had beaten the shit out of him but by the looks people gave Billy the week after, everyone suspected. A couple of the guys on the team had even tried to give him a hard time for benching their star player for a month but Billy had set them straight fast. 

Now it was February, Harrington had medical clearance to get back on the team and there wasn’t a trace on his pretty face of the bruises Billy had put there. 

People had mostly forgotten about it and him and Harrington had managed to win enough games to give the team a fighting chance. Last week they got a win against Clarksville High. Billy had fist pumped the air and Harrington had grinned. It was the most civil interaction they’ve had to date. 

Sometimes Billy saw him when he had to pick up Max from her nerdy friends’ houses. Harrington would barely nod at him and Billy leered. He didn’t get why Harrington would voluntarily spend time with Middle School losers, especially when there were enough bitches in High School still willing to bend over for King Steve. 

He was probably just happy some stupid kids still thought he was cool and followed him around like lost duckings. In High School, Harrington was mostly ignored. He had hit that elusive middle ground of not really being popular anymore but also having enough street cred no to be picked on. He was left alone.

It bothered Billy that the deposed king wasn’t more upset about loosing his throne and wasn’t willing to fight to get it back. He also seemed to be unbothered by Billy. Unafraid even. Billy didn’t trust people who weren’t afraid of him, especially since he had given Harrington plenty of reasons to be afraid. 

When Harrington came back to school after that night, his face all painted with bruises, he had just ignored Billy. He didn’t go out of his way to avoid him or hid from him, he just walked by as if Billy was’t there, as if he wasn’t a concern. 

Billy didn’t know what to do with that. 

The only time he had seen Harrington show any reaction towards him was back in December when he had gone to pick up Max from the arcade and she was sharing a milkshake with that Sinclair kid. Billy had started to walk towards them when a hand of his shoulder stopped him. 

“Don’t.”

Billy had glared at Harrington but the pretty boy hadn’t lowered his hand or looked away. Just kept his gaze locked on Billy’s, unflinching. 

There had been a few kids staring at them and even a couple of mothers that were giving them weary looks. 

“It’s not even worth it,” Billy had huffed before going out to have a smoke. 

Billy didn’t get Harrington, not really, but at least he didn’t annoy him like all the other fucks in this hick town. So Friday afternoon, after basketball practice, Billy waited in the locker room until Harrington came out of the shower. The Princess always took forever, probably moisturizing his hair or something. 

Harrington had a towel around his waist and his hair was dripping when he came out of the showers. He gave Billy a curious look but just went to his locker and got his clothes out. Billy fixed his hair on the mirror while he waited and when he noticed Harrington was ready to go, he turned around. 

“I need a ride,” Billy said, leaning on the lockers beside Harrington. 

“I saw your car outside,” Harrington pointed out, picking up his backpack and walking out of the locker room. 

Billy followed. “Not now, Princess, tonight.”

Harrington kept walking but looked at him. “Why?”

Billy smirked. “I know for a fact you have no problem driving people around.”

“Kids,” Harrington corrected. “Do you need a babysitter, Hargrove?”

“In your dreams, pretty boy.” Billy licked his lips. “I can give you a cut of my take.”

They reached the parking lot and Harrington stopped walking. “I’m not gonna be your getaway driver.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “I got a line on an underground fighting thing in Clarksville. I feel like hitting something and getting payed for it.”

For a moment a look Billy couldn’t read took over Harrington’s face. There was something dark, violent there, something Billy could almost recognize, but it disappeared as quickly as it came to be replaced with Harrington’s unconcerned, lazy stare. “Clarksville is an hour away.”

“Yeah, so?”

“The kids have a long campaign planned for tomorrow,” Harrington said, as if that had any relevance to what they had been talking about. “It might go on past eleven and Max’s curfew is nine thirty. Make sure she can stay out late and I’ll drive you.”

Just like fucking King Steve to ask for something for the kids as payment. Fucking pussy. “Pick me up at eight tonight.”

“Sure,” Harrington said and walked to his car.

Whatever, Billy thought. He had his ride.

* *

Max was suspicious but agreed to the plan. At dinner she asked to go see a movie the next day that was only showing at nine and as predicted, Neil ordered Billy to take the “precious Maxine” to the cinema and not let her out of his sight. 

“You owe me,” he told her under his breath and she glared at him. 

“I saw you talking to Steve. I don’t owe you shit and if you hurt him in any way, I’ll end you,” she whispered back and then continued eating her pasta as if nothing had happened. 

Little shit had grown a backbone. Billy wasn’t sure he liked it but he knew that if he did anything to her to set her straight (teach her respect and responsibility), Harrington wouldn’t take him anywhere and Billy needed the money.

More than the money, really, he needed the fight. 

His father had been on his case almost none-stop for a week and while Billy usually just got drunk and picked someone random to go a few rounds with, the conversation he had overheard last week after the game in Clarksville had picked his interest. 

Two boys from the opposite basketball team were talking about the money they had made betting on cage fights. It took no time for Billy to find out the details. Every Friday night in an abandoned factory just outside town there was fighting and anyone who wanted could enter and make some money by betting or winning. 

Billy had been thinking about it all week and though he only decided at the last minute to take Harrington with him (and only because he didn’t have the gas money to drive himself) his blood was pumping for a good fight. 

At eight he changed into a t-shirt he wouldn’t mind getting bloody, put on his jacket and walked out. 

Harrington’s Beemer was already parked on the curve. Billy lit up a cigarette and walked towards the car. 

The door was locked. 

He banged on the window and Harrington looked at him but didn’t unlock the door. Through the window Billy heard him say something about the smoke and Billy banged on the window again. 

He thought about just kicking the tire and going back inside, fuck Harrington and his prudish rules, but he really wanted to go to Clarksville so he threw the half finished smoke on the lawn and tried the door again. 

It opened this time. “You’re a fucking fag, Harrington,” Billy said. 

Harrington just turned up the radio (was that Duran Duran?) and started the engine. 

Billy changed the station until he found something acceptable (Back in black, definitely better) and then leaned back and watched the town roll by. 

They stayed quiet all the way out of Hawkings and then Harrington lowered the volume and asked, “So, underground fighting?”

“Cage fighting,” Billy said. “I figure I can win some money and have some fun. Wanna piece of the action, Princess?”

“Maybe,” Harrington said and Billy snorted. The former King of Hawkings had some fire in him but he wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t have the viciousness, the urge to hurt. That’s why he had lost so badly to Billy, and to Byers too, the rumors said. 

It grew quiet again. Billy turned the volume back up and focussed on changing stations as they got out of range of Hawkings. Harrington didn’t speak again until they neared Clarksville and just to ask for directions. It was a surprisingly not annoying drive. 

They drove through Clarksville quickly and the people outside and the lights on the streets dwindled the further out they got. Billy repeated the directions he got from the basketball players and they drove through a deserted unpaved road for several minutes until the reached an old abandoned factory building hidden by the forest. 

There were several cars parked outside but the factory had no windows and no light came out. Harrington parked by an old pick up truck and they got out. The Beemer looked out of place among the other vehicles but Harrington payed it no mind. There was still some snow on the ground and Billy buttoned up his jacket and put his hands inside his pockets. 

Harrington didn’t look as cold with his heavy coat and even a preppy scarf around his neck. They walked quickly to the closed door and Billy knocked three times with his fist. 

The heavy door opened a crack and a tall gruff guy looked them up and down. “Five dollars each.”

Fuck. That was more than Billy thought would cost just to get through the door but Harrington simply got out his wallet and handed a tenner to the guy. The door opened all the way and Billy shoved a fiver to Harrington. “I don’t take charity.”

He only had five dollars left now but fuck it if he was going to let Harrington treat him like a bitch. Harrington shrugged and pocketed the bill. They walked slowly inside what seemed to have been the main factory floor. Old machinery and crates were pushed to the side and on the far side of the room a cage had been constructed using a metallic fence and steel poles welded to the ground. 

The fence surrounded three walls of the makeshift cage and the fourth was one of the factory walls. There was a steel door that must lead to some storage area and was shut. Strong light reflectors illuminated the cage and the fence was at least fifteen feet tall, reaching almost all the way to the high ceilings of the building. On the wall, above the steel door, there was large electronic time, numbers stuck on zero. 

Around the fence dozens of people were cheering and drinking. Inside the cage, two men were pounding each other with their fists. There was blood on the floor, both new and old, and the smell of sweat permeated the room. 

“Not your usual scene, uh Princess?”

But when he turned to look at Harrington, that weird look from earlier was back. He was looking at the men fighting as if enthralled and it wasn’t until one of them got knocked out that Harrington seemed to snap out of his trance. He took off his scarf and his jacket and left them on a bench by a wall. 

“Someone’s gonna steal those,” Billy pointed out but Harrington just shrugged. Rich bastard. If no one had taken them by the time they left, Billy was gonna steal the coat himself. Harrington needed the lesson and Billy could use the extra layer. 

Billy ignored Harrington and went to look for the man in charge. It was easy to spot him. Fat middle age guy, sitting on a chair in the front row, surrounded by henchmen. Billy was stopped by one of the henchmen when he approached. 

“I just want in on the action,” Billy said, nodding towards the cage. 

The guy looked him up and down. “Fine. Five dollars to fight. You get ten if you win and can bet as much as you want on yourself.” He glared. “Only if you bet to win, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Billy licked his lips. He only had five dollars left but if he won then he could fight again.

“How about your friend?”

Harrington was standing behind Billy, looking as out of place as a preppy boy could be. “He’s not the fighting type.”

The man took Billy’s money and told him to wait by the left side. Harrington followed him a moment later and they watched two fights before Billy was called up. 

“Cheer me on, Princess!” he said to Harrington before handing him his jacket and stepping into the cage. 

The man fighting him was in his thirties. Long hair, short beard and a scar across his cheek. He didn’t seem impressed with Billy but that was fine, Billy would show him. 

Billy let the man have a free shot. It was always good to see what he was up against and Billy used that to sort guys into two groups in his head: the ones that hit harder than Neil Hargrove when he was drunk and the ones who didn’t. 

This guy didn’t. 

Billy smirked, licked his lips and hit back. 

The fight was over too soon. Billy took that first hit to the chin and a couple more to the ribs but that’s all the man was able to get through. Billy was vicious and the bouncers had to drag him off the guy or Billy would have kept hitting him, just like he had done with Harrington that night. 

His blood was pumping but the fight had been too easy, done too quickly. He wasn’t done yet, he wanted another go. When he went to get his jacket back from Harrington he got a beer as well and a twenty dollar bill. 

“Your winnings,” Harrington explained with a smirk. That smirk, Billy thought, was probably part of what had made him King before he stepped away from the Hawkings throne. “I betted on you. Call it a commission.”

Billy drank half the beer in one gulp and grinned. “Fuck, pretty boy. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

The bouncer payed Billy his ten dollars and allowed him to fight just one more time. The second guy was tougher and Billy got a split lip, a black eye and probably a bruised rib before he managed to knock the guy out. 

Harrington had another beer and another twenty waiting for him when he got out of the cage. Billy was wiping the blood off his face with his t-shirt when a voice sounded from a megaphone. 

“Now it’s time for the main event.” It was the fat man, the head honcho. He was standing in front of the cage on a step ladder. “The buy in is a hundred dollars. If you can last fifteen minutes you get your money back, plus another hundred. Win, and you get two hundred.”

There were excited whispers all around. That was way more than the ten dollars a fight he just got and Billy could definitely use that kind of money. Not that he had a hundred to put up front anyway, even with his winnings and Harrington’s bets. 

“A friendly reminder,” the man continued. “The longest anyone has lasted is seven minutes and fifteen seconds. Last week, two men ended up the hospital, one is still there. You enter the cage at your own risk and you pay the money first, just in case.”

Nervous laughter followed that statement. 

“Before we welcome our main attraction, let me remind you of the rules. One, you may take any weapon that isn’t a firearm inside the cage with you. You can even choose from our selection.” The man pointed to where a couple of men were carrying box filled with tools. Billy could see a crowbar, an axe, a machete and even what looked like an old sword.

“Two, if you want out you need to get yourself out. Run to the gate at the back and we will try to help you out. We don’t guarantee your safety and, of course, your money will be forfeited if you don’t last the required fifteen minutes.”

Most of the people looked like they had heard this before but Billy had no idea what was going on. The basketball players hadn’t said anything about a main attraction and whatever this was, the more the fat guy said, the less Billy thought it was worth the money. 

“Three, if it looks like you’re gonna die, we’ll try to get you out and you’ll forfeit the money, and fourth, if you want to stay and watch, you pay another ten dollars for the privilege, otherwise, leave now.”

The quiet that had taken over the room broke and people started talking excitedly. Most of them started filling out. Billy turned to look at Harrington, ready to go. He wasn’t spending ten dollars on whatever shit was happening next but Harrington had his eyes fixed on the cage and seemed in no hurry to move. 

Billy poked him on the side. “Ready to go, Princess?”

Harrington blinked at him, as if he had forgotten that Billy was there with him and then shook his head. “I’m staying.”

“Yeah, well I’m not waiting in the car for you or paying for whatever scam they have going on.” Billy started tugging on his arm but Harrington snatched it back.

They stared at one another for a few seconds until one of the bouncers walked up to them. “Pay or leave, kids,” he said. “I suggest, leave.”

Without taking his eyes off him, Harrington took out his wallet and payed for both of them.

“Fine.” Billy shrugged and had another sip of his beer. “Your money.”

The bouncer put a stamp on the back of their hands and moved on. It was a few minutes before the rest of the money was collected and the ones who didn’t pay were forced to leave. 

“And now,” the fat man said on the megaphone “Our main attraction!” The heavy steel door on the back of the cage opened and with a growl a _T H I N G_ came out. 

I wasn’t a wolf. Or a dog. Or anything Billy had ever know existed. It wasn’t anything from this earth. It couldn’t be. 

_It didn’t have a face._

There were gasps, curses and screams all around but Billy couldn’t take his eyes away from the _monster_ in front of him. 

It stood on four legs and there was a mouth and teeth, too many teeth, but _there was no face_. It was slimy, with a tail that swished menacingly behind it. It stopped in the middle of the cage and turned its head as if it was looking at them but it couldn’t because _it had no eyes_! 

It was just row, upon row of teeth. 

Beside him, Harrington let out a resigned sigh and a single word, “Fuck.”

Harrington’s eyes weren’t bulging and he wasn’t backing away slowly like most of the people in the room were doing. He was just staring at the thing in the cage, unfazed, his hands opening and closing as if he wanted to grab something. 

“So,” said the fat man, “who wants to go first?”

People started looking nervously around and whispering among themselves, waiting for the suicidal fucker who would be stupid enough to get killed for a chance at a hundred bucks. 

“I can use any weapon, you said?”

And Billy had to do a double take because it was Harrington who had asked. He was looking at the fat man instead of at the _thing_ in the cage that was growling at him. 

The man looked surprised. “As long as it’s not a firearm. We want a fair fight, you see.” He hesitated a second before adding, “but this isn’t really a fight for a kid.”

Harrington just pulled out a few bills from his wallet. “Nothing in the rules about an age restriction,” he said. 

“What’re you doing?!” Billy pulled Harrington’s hand down and tried to push him back but there was no give. Figures Harrington would pick the worst time to plant his fucking feet. 

That weird look was back in Harrington’s face, that mix of violence and desperation that Billy recognized in himself, that drove him to go out at night and pick fights just so he could feel fucking in control fr once. 

“Let go, Hargrove. It’s not as if you care, anyway.” Harrington pulled his had away and walked towards the fat man. “I need to get something from my car,” Harrington said as he handed the money to one of the henchmen. 

Billy and the rest of the people in the factory watched him walk out of he room in silence. 

“Kid’s gonna get killed,” one of the bouncers said. 

“Fucking Princess!” Billy cursed under his breath and pictured telling Max that her precious babysitter had gotten mauled by a monster in an abandoned warehouse. 

“Twenty dollars on two minutes,” a voice said. 

“He’ll be running out in twenty five seconds, tops,” said a third and then it was a cacophony of bets and comments. No one was betting on Harrington to win, and Billy agreed.

“I bet he doesn’t come back!” someone else said and Billy hoped that was the case but the look on Harrignton’s eyes… that was the look of someone looking for a fight.

A hush came over and Billy turned around to see Harrington walk in. In his hand he had _that damned nail bat_.

“You just had that laying around in you car?” Billy asked, giving the bat a weary look. Who the fuck just carried around a bat covered in nails? And why?

Harrington shrugged. “Never leave home without it.”

The fat man was also eyeing Harrington’s weapon wearily. It was becoming evident that he wasn’t just the preppy kid everyone assumed. Not when he could casually hold a nail bat as if he was just going for a friendly baseball game with his school friends. “Kid, are you sure?”

King Steve, because that was the King Steve Billy had briefly met before their fight, leaned the bat on his shoulder and nodded. “Is this the only one?”

“The only what?” the fat man asked. 

“Demo—“ Harrington shook his head and pointed at the monster. “The only one of those?” 

“You want more, kid?” The man laughed. “We found it. We don’t know what it is. I don’t recommend looking for more.”

“Yeah, me neither…”For a moment, Harrington looked faintly amused. “How do I get in?”

One of the bouncers gestured for Harrington to follow him and led him to a side door, not the one Billy had used when he fought. This one led to a small sectioned off part of the cage and then there was another gate that opened up to the main part, where the thing was. 

It was evident that even though the organizers didn’t care much for the safety of the people stepping into the cage, they were taking precautions to ensure the thing didn’t get out. 

“If you want out, just yell for help and try to get to the storage area behind the steel door,” the bouncer told Harrington. “We have darts to slow it down and we’ll shut the storage door behind you after you make it there. Someone will let you out on the back. It’s not too late to back down, kid.”

“Dart…” Harrington muttered under his breath and chuckled.

The fucker had lost his mind, Billy thought. 

_Dear stepsister. Please tell all your dweeb friends that your babysitter got eaten by a monster. I tried to stop him but I’m pretty sure he’s insane. _. Billy didn’t think that that would go over well, or that anyone would believe him. 

Maybe it was a coyote with rabies. A very large coyote, with no fur, rabies and _no eyes!_.

The bouncer opened the first and Harrington walked into the cage. After that, they locked the door behind him and everyone stepped back. 

“Your time starts as soon as the door opens,” the fat man announced. He added softly, “Don’t get killed, kid.”

A loud alarm sounded. The second gate opened automatically and the timer on the wall started counting the seconds.

_0:01_

_0:02_

Billy held his breath as he watched Harrington walk just two steps into the main area and then stop, eyes firmly on the monster and bat ready for a strike. 

_0:04_

The monster turned its head slowly, mouth open and sharp teeth focused on Harrington. One moment, then two, then the thing launched.

_0:09_

There was no time to run.

It moved faster than Billy though possible and he was sure, just in that moment, that Harrington was dead.

The thing leaped and Billy heard a gasp and a scream from the people behind him, and then a dull thud from inside the cage. 

_0:11_

The monster was flung to the side. The bat had connected with it’s flank. Harrington leaped back just as the thing stood up. 

“Fuck yeah!” Billy found himself yelling. 

_0:15_

Harrington took another swing but missed as the monster leaped for him. He rolled, came up on his knees and swung the bat just in time catch the monster on its head. 

_0:21_

He swung again, stood up in one motion and stepped back when sharp teeth went for him. Harrington hissed and pulled back. A couple of drops of blood tricked down his left hand. 

_0:24_

He rolled the bat in his right hand and brought it down straight to the monster’s mouth. 

_0:26_

There was a whimper and then a growl and then Harrington took three leaping steps backwards as the monster snarled and ran at him again. 

Instead of running for the steel gate, instead of saving himself, Harrington readied the bat again and ran _towards_ the monster. 

“He’s insane,” someone said behind him but Billy didn’t turn around to see who had spoken. His eyes were focused on Harrington. Billy was sure he was gonna see the King die. 

_0:30_

He got one good hit to the monster’s flank, then rolled the bat and got another one to the front legs, making the thing loose its footing. Then he took a batter stance, raised his arms and brought the bat sideways heavily on the monster’s head. 

_0:36_

The thing let out a low whimper. 

_0:38_

Harrington didn’t stop. He wrenched the bat back and brought it down again, and again, and again. 

_0:49_

Blood spilled on the floor, on Harrington’s jeans, shirt and even his face, and he just kept swinging the bat. 

_0:57_

“Harrington, it’s dead. Stop.”

_1:03_

He didn’t seem to hear him so Billy walked closer to the fence and tried again. “Princess, stop. Come on, Pretty boy… Steve!”

_1:11_

Harrington stopped mid swing and glanced up. The look on those brown eyes wasn’t something Billy ever wanted to see again. 

Someone started clapping and then people were cheering and laughing but Harrington’s eyes were still locked on Billy’s, bat held tightly. 

And Billy understood. 

Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t the first time Harrington had seen it and it was probably the monster behind that cold vicious look Harrington sometimes got on his face. 

Apparently, the Princess could win a fight after all. 

* *

Chief Hopper came to pick them up. 

After collecting his winnings and his bat (Harrington was obsessed with the thing, wouldn’t put it down at all), Harrington had drove them to town, found a payphone and called the chief. 

Why Harrington had the number of the chief of police memorized or why he felt like calling him in the middle of the night to come to Clarksville when they had a perfectly serviceable car to drive back to Hawkings were just a couple of the many questions Billy had that Harrington refused to answer. 

Actually, Harrington hadn’t said more than five words to him since he came out of the cage, covered in monster’s blood. After calling, Harrington had drove them all the way back and stood in front of the factory’s doors, waiting. 

Billy offered him a cigarette and they smoked quietly. 

By the time the chief arrived the only people left in the factory were a couple of the henchmen that were cleaning up and arguing between them about who got to take care of the monster. 

“It’s a wolf,” said the suit that arrived half an hour after Hopper. _In a chopper_. Accompanied with about a dozen army men. “Test subject for a cancer research program. Obviously a failure.”

“Bullshit!” Billy said. 

_The thing had no eyes. _

Harrington winced slightly. “I don’t like that word.”

The suit, Dr. Owens, stuck to his story. Experimental pharmaceutical research, cure for cancer, just a wolf, mutations due to radiation treatment. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to see.

Yeah right, that was why they had taken the body of whatever that thing was in a black zipper bag. 

That was why Dr. Owens has insisted on getting a few blood samples from Harrington when they realized the thing had scratched him, and Harrigton had just let them. 

That was why Dr. Owens knew Harrington’s name without being introduced.

_Bullshit! _

When Hopper moved away to talk quietly to Owens, Billy sat down beside Harrington where he was resting on the bench by the wall. The coat and scarf were still there. 

“Wanna fill me in, Princess?” Billy asked, looking at the bandage on the back of Harrington’s hand. 

“Experimental something,” he mumbled. The pretty boy looked exhausted. 

“The first time I saw that bat,” Billy said, conversationally, “it already had blood on it.”

Harrington tightened his grip on the bat but didn’t reply.

“That monster thing and these guys are all tied up with what happened that night in that creepy house. They are all tied up with you.” Billy grabbed Harrington’s arm, hard. “Tell me you didn’t get my little sister mixed up in some monster conspiracy shit.”

“Stepsister,” Harrington corrected, half-heartedly. When Billy just glared he added. “I can’t talk about it.”

Which meant that there was something to talk about. He tightened his grip, ready to keep asking when Harrington gestured to the army men around them. “Just leave it, Billy,” he said. “For now.”

“For now.” Billy let go and then leered at Harrington. “Are we friends now, Pretty boy? Should I start calling you Steve?”

Harrington gave him a small smile. “You already did. Better than King Steve, anyway”

Billy sighed and closed his eyes. He was feeling those hits he took on the fights now and he was tired. “You’re not afraid of me.”

Harrington took a moment before he said. “No.”

Billy looked down at the bat. Maybe now he had an idea why. 

“Later, _Steve_. Don’t think I’m letting this go.”

Harrington gave him a small smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

In the end, Billy didn’t steal the coat and scarf. 

Harrington still tried to give them to him, the fucker.


End file.
